A Novelization
by Dzije
Summary: Yes, another novelization of R.E. 4. Leon and his partner have been sent to find the President's daughter...but you all knew that already.
1. The Beginning

Disclaimer: Don't own Resident Evil, or that sexy boy toy, Leon. However, I do own Anya – she's my own creation.

Okay, everyone. Just a quick synopsis: This is a novelization of the Resident Evil game. I know there are only about twenty of those right now, so I'm glad you've given mine a chance. Anya is a character that I've put in - I felt Leon needed a partner and I'm tired of men getting all the fun. Time to send in a woman to kick some ass.

A/N: means thought

The village was a small one, so small it could barely even be called a "town". The village was spread across a few miles of land, but the neighbors' houses were so spread apart from one another, to borrow a cup of sugar or milk meant a fifteen minute walk.

The village was quiet most days. The residents mostly worked; milking the cows, minding the fields, and collecting the eggs and vegetables. Though they enjoyed their peaceful way of life, they knew when it was appropriate to have fun: a marriage, a birth or birthday. Don Juan, one of the village elders, owned his very own guitar, and would sometime sit out on his front porch and have sing-a-longs with young villagers' children.

Yes, it was a very peaceful place. Perfect, almost. They did not have the luxury of electrical appliances, but if they are not exposed to such things, then they cannot wish for them. Only a few families have left the village through the several generations since the Rodigo family first set up their home, almost two centuries ago.

The people who live in the pueblo enjoy their lives. They are not envious, they are not vain, and they are not hateful. But while they are none of these things, they are most definitely one thing: ignorant.

It is the perfect village.

That bratty President's daughter was somewhere in Europe, and Special Agent Anya Jovovich was not enthused. She'd rather that little snotbag stay missing.

Of course, it was her job. It was what she was trained to do. Nobody said being in the Secret Service was always desirable. In fact, at times it sucked.

She would give her life to save President Graham - she loved her country that much, and loved what he stood for. He was the best President this country had seen in quite a while.

But Anya did not like having to go rescue a conceited little college student, even if she was the President's daughter.

Ashley Graham was abducted about a week ago. She was on her way home from her university in Massachusetts when some unknown party simply whisked her up in broad daylight, and no one had heard from her since. There was no ransom note, no death threats, no clues. No one knew that she was missing until the pilot sent to pick her up at the airport radioed the White House to declare that neither Ashley nor her bodyguards were anywhere to be found. After checking surveillance cameras, it turned out the group had not even made it to the airport.

Not wanting to upset the U.S. with news of Ashley's abduction, President Graham quietly called together his council to go over possible strategies. Though her captors had not bothered to get in touch with the President, he knew that there was a different motive behind her attack: fame? Probably. Money? More than likely. It was with this reasoning that President Graham knew that his daughter was still alive somewhere, but he had yet to discover the true motive.

Keeping this whole ordeal under wraps was going to prove difficult. The news media would have loved nothing more than to get their sticky hands on this story: _PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER ABDUCTED: What the gov't plans to save her._ This would only upset the public into thinking this was another planned terrorist attack, and President Graham could not bear to deal with the ridiculous questions at the next press conference: "How do you feel about your daughter being abducted, President Graham?" Yes, he was the President, but he was also a father. This tribulation was affecting him as it would any other parent.

During his conference with his council, the secret service announced that they would immediately send in one of their own to investigate this mess. Deep down, President Graham wanted nothing more than to launch the entire U.S. Navy after his daughter, but common sense told him that sending in an agent was the best thing to do. Running a frustrated hand through his hair for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, President Graham nodded and agreed.

Anya's home phone went off that night at exactly five o'clock. Pulling herself away from the television, she went into the kitchen and glimpsed at the caller I.D. When the image "White House" (no number listed) flashed on the screen, Anya practically dove for the phone. Something had happened. When she hit the TALK button, she opened her mouth to say something, but her supervisor's gruff voice beat her to it: "Get down to HQ immediately. We have a situation. Suit up and pack something." Then he hung up.

Suit up. That meant that she was going on an assignment. Wicked.

Fifteen minutes later, Anya was driving through HQ's gates. And five minutes after that, she was jogging toward her supervisor's office. She did knock on the door, but did so while simply barging in. "Boss, I'm here."

She saw the older man sitting in his chair behind his desk. He was wearing his usual suit, but his coat was off, his tie was undone, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He looked up at her, his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He simply said, "Sit down."

Anya tried not to look too anxious as she shut the door behind her and sat down in one of the seats.

Boss said, "We have a problem. Ashley wasn't at the airport today."

It took Anya a moment for that to sink in. Then she realized that this was the day that Ashley was to come home from college. It hit her suddenly that she hadn't seen Ashley at all, or the little princess's usual mob of irritating, giggly friends hitting on the younger White House workers. The prissy snob wasn't even there that day.

"Did you hear me, Agent?" Boss snapped.

He called me "agent". Ooh, it's a sure guarantee now – I'm on assignment.

"Yes, sir. Just thinking, sir," Anya quickly replied.

"She was taken on her way home from college. We checked over records and surveillance cameras, but it turns out she didn't even make it to the extraction point. She must have been abducted sometime between leaving her dorm and traveling to the airport," Boss said in his gruff voice and reaching over his desk to pick up a cigar from the elegant box. "The President had a conference and we all agreed that it would be best if we kept this little… snag under wraps."

Anya nodded. The reporters would have a field day.

"So, we're going to be discreet about this and send in only our best to sort this problem out. There aren't that many leads," he handed her a file labeled TOP SECRET, "but we've managed to pinpoint the country she's in."

He lit up his cigar while Anya flipped over the file cover and saw Ashley's picture staring back at her.

Anya looked up at Boss. "Sir, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Anya was used to Boss's dry humor. "Why did you pick me for this mission?"

Boss blew out a ring of smoke through his mouth. He thought for a moment, and then looked over at Anya. "Looking for a compliment, agent?"

"No, sir," Anya said quickly. "Just curious."

"Your skills surpass everyone else's in the department," Boss said, his gaze boring into hers. "Your decoding abilities are near perfection, and you're the best damn computer hacker I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Still curious?"

Anya felt the blush rise in her cheeks. "No, sir."

There was a knock at the door. Anya quickly closed the file.

"Who is it?" Boss called.

"Leon Kennedy, sir."

Leon Kennedy? Anya thought, her mind whirring. The hell was he doing here?

"Come on in, kid."

The door opened and Leon Kennedy stepped in. Anya noticed with disappointment that Kennedy was suited up as well, his handgun holster strapped to his thigh.

"Close the door and sit down."

Kennedy did as he was told. When he sat down in the chair next to Anya, Anya had to look away.

She hoped this didn't mean what she thought it did.

Boss took another puff on his cigar and leaned back in his leather chair. "Jovovich, you have a partner."

Anya fought the urge to curse aloud. "Sir, I think it would be best if I did this assignment alone."

Out of the corner of her eye, Anya saw Leon turn his head toward her, no doubt giving her a puzzled look.

Boss's eyebrow went up, intrigued (it was usually hard to surprise a veteran like him). "Really? Why's that?"

"Don't you think it would be odd if the two of us were to travel to her university and start asking questions about Ashley? I think it would raise suspicions."

"That's the best accuse you could think of? It would raise suspicions if _one_ of you started asking questions. He's your backup, kid," Boss growled. "You watch his back, he watches yours. Besides, you're not going to Ashley's university. You're heading over to Europe. Give Kennedy the file."

Anya handed over the file without looking at Leon. Her new "partner" took it and began to leaf through it.

"Go get your equipment and then proceed to the helipad. From there, you'll be taken to the airport. The rest is in the file."

The two young agents stood up and went for the door.

Boss narrowed his eyes. "Kennedy?"

Kennedy turned back around. "Yes, sir?"

"You may be partners in this, but Jovovich is first agent. You will follow her orders, understand?"

Kennedy nodded. He opened the door and walked out.

Anya was about to follow when she heard Boss's stern voice from behind. "Happy, Jovovich?"

Anya turned and looked at Boss. She cleared her throat and answered "Yes, sir", even though it was clear that she was far from glad.

"Go on, then. Get out of my office," Boss replied.

Anya shut the door behind her.

Surprisingly, Kennedy had waited for her out in the hall. She thought it had been because he was merely being a gentleman, but it turned out for a different reason: "Judging by your reaction back there, I take it that you weren't expecting help on this mission?"

Anya walked toward weapon recovery. "No."

Kennedy walked beside her. "Well, we're stuck together."

"I suppose."

Of course, Anya did know Leon. They had been friends in the months that they had known one another. But that didn't change her feelings about having a partner during this mission.

"Jesus Christ, Anya," Leon said, keeping his voice dangerously low, "The hell is your problem? I thought you'd appreciate having some extra help."

"Leon, I don't mind being partnered up, I just don't like having _you_ as my partner."

Leon was silent.

"No – that came out wrong," Anya said. Anya finally looked at Leon, and came to a halt in the middle of the corridor. Workers passed them, oblivious to the quiet argument. Anya folded her arms across her chest and took a deep, shaky breath. "Three assignments ago, I had a partner whom I grew attached to. We were almost home free until he got gunned down. I had to leave him there to die while I ran for my life to the extraction point," Anya said softly, her eyes locking on Leon's. "That's why I like working alone."

Leon stared at her until she turned on her heel and continued down the corridor. He ran up to her and said softly, "I'm sorry. I never knew."

"Well, now you do," Anya sighed.

It was true – Leon Kennedy was one of the few friends that she had, one of the few people she even liked. After discovering that they had shared similar experiences with the Umbrella Corporation, she had spent a lot of time with him, whether by hanging out at his apartment on the weekend, or hitting the bars after an especially crappy day at work. He was unlike the other guys in her department: he was young like her and he had a sweet and righteous personality. At twenty seven years of age, Leon had that veteran's look in his eyes, but he wasn't arrogant in the slightest. Unbeknownst to him, Anya and a couple of other women she worked with had labeled him Leon, the Hottie Extraordinaire. Not only was Leon Kennedy just about the hottest guy in her department, but he knew his stuff. Though this was his first assignment, he knew about strategies and was the best weapons specialist she had ever met.

She knew some stuff about his family, since there were days when he wouldn't stop talking about them. He had a younger sister, an older brother, a mom and dad, but he hadn't seen any of them in a couple years. His job had kept him away from all the family gatherings, though he would have given anything to be there. Anya knew that Leon had been working his way through the ranks of the government for many years, ever since he got recruited when he was 21. Anya could definitely hold her own in a fight, but she knew that Leon was going to have her back when (and if) she needed it.

"Well, Anya, I must say, I'm touched," Leon spoke up. "You're scared for my life."

Anya sighed, but didn't say anything.

"This is my first assignment," Leon said.

"I know."

"And I couldn't imagine being paired with a better person."

Anya gave him a sideways glance, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Leon Scott Kennedy, you are the biggest suckup —"

"No, I'm serious," he interrupted, chuckling.

She was scared for him, but she was also scared for herself. She was in a dangerous line of work, putting her life on the line just to protect someone else's. Any person in her position would worry about themselves, of course, but they would also worry about their family's welfare.

But, Anya did not have a family. Not anymore. If she were to die, knowing that her family would not have to suffer the pain of losing a loved one, only made Anya's job easier. It's what kept her going every day.

Two hours later, she and Leon were settling down on the airplane, in the plush, leather seats that made up first class. Leon let her have aisle seat, after she informed him she gets airsick quickly and might have to bolt for the lavatory.

Anya took off her coat and stuffed it in the overhead compartment. Before she sat down, though, she looked at Leon. "Gonna take off your coat?"

Leon, who had been looking at Ashley's files, said absently, "Right."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Typical men." She reached over and put her hand flat on the pile. "Earth to Leon."

This time he snapped out of his daze. He looked up at his partner and said, "I'm sorry?"

Anya smiled softly. "Your coat, monsieur?"

"Oh, yeah." Leon shrugged out of his coat and handed it to Anya. "Thanks."

"No prob," she said, stuffing it in the compartment beside hers. "I hope you paid more attention than that at basic training."

Leon smiled. "How could I not, with Geoff shouting in my face every day?"

Anya grimaced at the thought of their self-defense trainer, Staff Sergeant Geoffrey Vamper (known as "Vampire" to his students). The short-tempered older man was obsessed with pain. His philosophy: the more pain, the harder you'll work. He nearly made Anya cry during her first class, but he learned to back off when Anya "accidentally" broke his nose that very same day. To this day, she's known as the only person who was able to cause physical injury the "always-prepared" Geoff.

"What an asshole," Anya breathed.

"That sucker punch was classic. That sure shut him up. I've never seen anyone throw a punch that fast."

Anya grinned proudly while she buckled herself into her seat. "He was harassing me because I was the only girl in that class. I wanted to put him in his place."

"You know, Darins was going to ask you out that day, but when he saw you take out Geoff, he changed his mind."

"What? Darins was going to ask me out?" Anya gasped. "It's not like I was going to hurt him while out on a date."

Leon chuckled, amused. "No, you probably would have. Let's just say Darins intentions weren't…honorable."

Anya shot Leon a look. "Typical man?"

"Typical man," Leon affirmed.

"Well, he was cute," Anya admitted, placing her tray down. "All right, fork it over. Let's see what we're getting ourselves into."

Leon spread the contents of the file over both their trays. For the next few hours, Anya and Leon didn't discover much of anything. There weren't many leads; no witnesses, no clues, no ransom notes. Anya didn't understand how Boss expected them to rescue Ashley with no information. It was going to be like finding a needle in a gargantuan haystack.

Two hours into it, Anya rubbed her eyes and said, "Let the priss stay missing. I don't give a flying hoot."

Leon reached up and turned on the light, fixing the scope to shine on the papers. "Anya —"

"What? You don't like her either, so shut up," Anya grumbled.

"I don't know her, how can I not like her?" Leon asked calmly.

"You sound like my mother."

"A wise woman, obviously."

"Yes," Anya sighed. "She was very, very wise."

Leon was silent. He didn't know what to say. He'd seen a lot of good people die in his day, but it'd never been anyone he had ever grown close to. Except for Ada.

He shook his head, trying to get her out of his head. He refused to think about her, especially when he needed to get work done.

"Well, this is going to be fun," Anya sighed, "I haven't been to Europe in a few years."

"We're not going there for a vacation, Anya."

She shot him another look, but of amusement. "Could we pretend it's a vacation?"


	2. A Friendly Welcome

The day they arrived, Anya knew that this assignment wasn't going to be a walk in the park. The airport was small, incredibly tiny, even, and Anya knew that if they needed supplies, it was doubtful they were going to get them there. Of course, the two Agents hadn't come unprepared. Leon carried his handgun and a few boxes of ammo, but Anya had her Magnum, handgun, sniper rifle and five clips of ammo for each gun. She wasn't taking any chances.

Leon had called ahead of time to the local police department and explained their situation. The police had reports of a girl matching Ashley's description near a very small village on the outskirts of the main city. Leon and Anya had to keep a low profile during this trip since President Graham did not want to worry the public. This rescue mission was to be as quiet and discreet as possible: get in, get the girl, and be home in time for supper.

Once outside the police station, Leon and Anya waited for the police to come around with their vehicle. Anya tugged her coat around her tighter, more from being unnerved than from the cold. This country sucked. At every mysterious sound, her hand instinctively drifted to the gun strapped to her thigh. She was used to being in unfamiliar territory but…

Another howl in the distance, and when she moved toward her gun again, Leon caught her arm.

She looked up at him, sheepish.

Leon gave her that half-smile that made every girl in their department swoon. "Anya, I doubt we're going to get attacked by a pack of coyotes anytime soon. That's the fourth time you've gone for your gun."

She smiled, and even eased up a little. "You noticed?"

Leon shrugged, releasing his hold on her wrist. "Yeah. It's all right, though. I understand. It is a bit unnerving here."

"It's good to know that I haven't gone insane. It's just so… blah here," Anya confessed, staring at the dead trees and grass. "It's brown everywhere…Everything's dead."

"It is autumn, ya know. Things do die before winter," Leon replied, teasingly.

She gave him a sideways look, "Thank you, Captain Obvious. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

The police car, an old-fashioned box on wheels, came around the corner and stopped where the two Agents stood. Leon opened the backwards door for Anya, who stepped gingerly inside and sat down on the hard seat. Leon got in next, and closed the door behind them. He looked over at her and smiled.

She winked and then looked out the window, though there wasn't much of a sight.

The man driving spoke in a very heavy accent: "We'll drive you there, but I'm afraid that's all we can do. We try to avoid that area as much as possible."

Leon nodded. "Thank you. My partner and I can take it from there."

The driver gave a curt nod and started toward the village.

There was silence in the back of the car. Anya looked out the sorry excuse for a window and thought. All they had to do was go and get the damn girl, shoot some people (ask questions later) and they'll have the priss to her father before the day was done.

Honestly, Anya, is it ever that easy?

She sighed. No, it never was.

She felt Leon's elbow nudge her softly into her ribs. She looked over at him. He was staring back at her, those blue eyes intense.

"You okay, Anya? Don't tell me you're going to wimp out on me. I would have brought Fendman along if I wanted my partner to desert me," he joked.

"You've never even worked with Fendman before," Anya replied, "How would he know what he's like?"

Leon shrugged. "I hear stories. But, honestly, Anya, I'm glad I'm paired with you."

Anya smiled softly and reached out with her left hand, gesturing for his. Leon entwined his fingers with Anya's and kept it there.

The second police officer saw this in his mirror and asked, "Ah, I get it. So you two are an item, eh?"

Anya pulled her hand away from Leon's and gave the officer a dirty look, "I doubt that's any of your business."

The officer shrugged. "Okay. Whatever you say. Hey, Miguel, pull over. I have to, uh… dispose of something, okay?"

Anya made a face. Why didn't the gross bastard go to the bathroom before they left the station? Good Lord. No wonder she's stayed single this long: men were disgusting.

Wait, she'd stayed single this long because she didn't have time to date. When she was protecting the President's family, she didn't have the chance to think about anything else, let alone the other sex. On her free nights, she did go out and have a good time; she was entitled to that, wasn't she? She was twenty-six, in shape, and pretty good-looking, and though she was a secret agent, she did need to slow down at times to enjoy her life.

But ever since this problem came about, she hadn't had the chance to enjoy life.

Miguel stopped the truck and his partner exited rather quickly. Anya could not hide her disgust.

Leon smiled, amused by Anya's revulsion, and looked out his window.

While the man did his…business, Anya did her best to keep her concentration on the forest. It was kind of pretty, but… just like there had been something wrong in Whelling, there was something wrong here. She could sense it, almost feel it in her bones. The way the wind blew the trees, and just the way the crows flew… it was odd. She considered the possibility that she was just in a different country and she wasn't used to these surroundings.

But her gut feeling suggested more hostile possibilities.

Miguel offered her and Leon a cigarette, but they both refused. Smoking did not help when she had to run for her life every month or so; it tended to wear her down a bit.

The other police officer returned to the car rather quickly. Anya wondered if his speedy return was because his penis had gotten too cold for him to handle.

"Mucho frio," he muttered, rubbing his hands together.

Miguel started up the car and started down the road. He carefully drove the car over the bridge, and came to a slow stop on the other side.

He turned around and said, "Well, this is it. We'll stay here. We don't want to get any… parking tickets. You understand."

Leon and Anya looked at one another. Anya rolled her eyes and opened up the car door to get out, grabbing her sniper rifle and slinging its strap along her back. Leon, however, replied smoothly, "Right. Parking tickets."

Anya was already on her way up the path when Leon got out of the car, muttering, "Geez. Who are these guys?"

He sped up his pace to catch up with his partner. The two special agents went up the dirt path, trying to stay warm against the bitter cold. They came to a fork on the path, the left lead to the house, and the right was blocked off by an old-fashioned truck.

What Anya really did notice was that there weren't any telephone poles anywhere, or electricity lines. She half-expected to see a satellite on the top of the house for cable, but there was nothing to prove that these people were living up with the times.

Anya muttered, "Jesus Christ, what century are these people living in?"

Leon brushed away his bangs that had fallen in front of his eyes – he had that problem a lot. He looked at the house. "That house doesn't have a door on it."

Anya scoffed. "I wonder if they have any pest problems."

Leon gestured, "Come on. Let's start asking the locals."

Anya sighed and trudged along behind Leon.

This was going to be a long day.

Leon went in first, climbing the wooden steps to the porch, the boards creaking beneath his weight. Anya noticed that the house was kept in shitty condition, and wondered why the owner just didn't knock it down and build a new home. The windows were boarded up, the wood used old and ratty. The building they were entering now looked like it was standing on its last legs.

Leon knocked on the doorframe and called out, "Hello?"

Silence greeted him.

They heard a cough from around the corner, proving that there was someone inside. The person was either deaf, or not very hospitable.

Anya pulled out her Magnum and nodded with her head for Leon to proceed.

Leon carefully went around the corner, not knowing what he'd find –

An older man was tending to his fireplace, his back to Leon. The man looked harmless, at any rate.

Anya stayed around the corner out of sight.

Leon cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir?"

No response. The man continued on as if he hadn't heard Leon.

Leon scoffed silently, amazed by this man's rudeness. He rounded the table, pulling the picture of the President's daughter out of his back pocket. He held out the picture and asked again, "Sir?"

The Spaniard finally turned around, his face less than amused. His glare was not welcoming; in fact, he seemed downright pissed.

This did not faze Leon, however. He continued to hold out the photograph, and asked, "Excuse me, sir, but do you recognize the girl in this photograph?"

"Qué carajo estas haciendo aqui? Lagarte, cabròn."

From around the corner, Anya heard the man's reply. She hadn't paid too much attention in Spanish class when she was younger, but the man's words roughly translated into "What the hell are you doing here? Get out, you bastard."

She had a feeling this would get ugly in a second.

Leon put the picture away, muttering a "sorry", and turned to leave.

The man put down his metal poker and gripped the axe that leaned against the wall. The man swung the axe at Leon –

- who saw the attack out of the corner of his eye and ducked and rolled at the last second. During his roll, Leon expertly unholstered his gun and pointed it at his attacker.

"Freeze!" Leon warned. When the man did not respond, Leon said again, "I said freeze!"

The man raised his axe.

Leon heard a gunshot from behind, and saw the man's head explode from his neck. The body fell to the ground, the axe still gripped tightly in his hand.

Leon turned around and saw Anya still in her shooting stance. She put the gun down and gave Leon a grim look. She spoke: "You warned him."

Before she could say anymore, they both heard a truck's engine being revved up. Both she and Leon bolted toward the front boarded-up window, and peeked through the cracks in the boards. The two Agents watched in horror and fear as the truck went down the trail and went straight for the police car. Anya saw only Miguel make it out of the vehicle. He had pulled out his gun and was firing at the truck's driver. It didn't help him much – the truck slammed straight into the police car. The two vehicles toppled onto the bridge, which immediately collapsed, and the vehicles both toppled into the river below. In the midst of the confusion, Anya could not see what happened to Miguel or the other officer. She prayed silently that they had somehow gotten out alive.

She doubted it, though.

More of the locals were approaching the house. All of them were armed with very sharp-looking farm tools.

Leon turned away from the window and spat, "Shit."

Anya continued to look out the window even when Leon's radio beeped. It was more than likely Ingrid, their advisor.

"Leon, how you holding up?"

"Not too well. There was a hostile local. I had no choice but to neutralize him," Leon replied.

Anya turned away from the window and went toward the back of the house. Leon almost asked her what she was looking for, but Ingrid gained his attention:

"Do whatever it takes to save the subject."

"Understood," Leon said. He took another glimpse outside and noticed that the men were approaching the house.

He ran from the window and went into the back where Anya was at. He found her staring at something in the wall. He could tell by her gaze that she was disturbed.

She turned away and said, "Skulls. Rotting skulls. I think we may have found trouble."

Leon nodded. "We need to get out. The guy's neighbors are coming over and I doubt it's for tea."

"Window?" Anya asked.

"It's our best bet…unless you want to use the front door?"

"Negative," Anya breathed, reaching down to her pocket to check if her ammo was still there. Five clips, ten founds each. She'd be okay for now; it didn't take ten founds to bring down one person.

Leon led the way and ran straight for the side window. He covered his face and leaped through the glass. Rolling expertly on the ground outside, he quickly rose to meet his opponents.

"Te voy a romper en pedazos!" one man shouted, the rest approaching rather fast, all raising their pitchforks and shears menacingly. Leon raised his weapon and shot the closest one in the face. Normally, this would have killed anyone within a second.

However, all the man did was grab his face in pain. He didn't even topple.

Surprised, but not deterred, Leon raised his weapon and shot again. This time the man stayed down.

However the other two approached quickly, throwing their arms back for a more powerful swing. Leon quickly backed up, but a fence blocked his escape.

Before they could swing their weapons, Leon heard three more shots, and he saw the crazed man jerk forward and fall to the ground, shuddering for a second before finally lying still. Leon looked up and saw Anya walking quickly across the porch toward Leon and the last-remaining man, her gun raised and aiming right at the assailant's head. Not hesitating for an instant, Anya pulled the trigger.

The bullet went right into the native's eye. He screamed and pressed his dirty hand to his face. But just like the first one, this man didn't keel over to the ground. In fact, he rushed toward Anya, ready to jump the fence and hack her to death.

Anya backed up to give herself more room.

Leon, however, refused to let anything happen to his partner. Before the psycho could jump the porch railing, Leon aimed and shot another bullet in the back of the man's head.

This time he did fall and did not get back up.

Anya, breathing heavy (more from emotion than exertion), gave Leon a look.

She didn't need to say anything. Leon reloaded his gun and said, "I don't know."

"I...I shot him in the head," Anya said in disbelief. Leon stepped over the bodies and made his way to the porch steps. "It went through his eye, Leon. His freaking eye. Why didn't he die?"

Leon looked sadly at her. Anya ripped her gaze from the now dead bodies and looked down at Leon. "I have a really bad feeling about this. God, Leon. I hope this isn't Whelling again."

Leon's own thoughts turned to Raccoon City. It was for this reason that Leon felt closest to Anya than any other person in his department. Like him, she had endured the same horrors as he did in her own town of Whelling. In the months that they had known each other, Leon and Anya had found that sharing their horrific experiences with another person who had gone through the same thing was better than therapy. Leon had to admit that though he had seen quite a lot of terrible things that night six years ago, he knew that didn't even compare to what Anya had endured. She watched as her family die, and she was forced try to escape with her life. Just like Raccoon, Whelling had been a very comfortable community in the quiet countryside of Wisconsin. Umbrella had gotten their poisonous hands on the small town, infecting and perverting it until it turned out to be just another devastation for the U.S. government to clean up.

It was odd. His first day on the job in Raccoon turned out shitty, and his first day on the job today was shitty. Go figure.

Anya shook herself out of her trance and started to run back down the path. Leon followed his partner. He knew where she was going – to check and see if their only means of escape was truly cut off.

It was.

Anya stood on the edge of the cliff and looked down into the rushing river. The old-fashioned truck had slammed into the rocks, smoke emitting from the now destroyed engine. The police car had flipped on its way down, and was lying on its hood. The bridge had been taken out completely, the pieces of wood drifting over the water. There was no way Anya or Leon could jump the gap.

Upon eyeing the disaster, Leon shook his head and whispered painfully, "Oh, no."

Anya began to tremble as she stared at the wreck. Leon placed a comforting hand on her shoulder but she pushed him off. "I…I can't do this. Not again."

Leon's brow furrowed. "What do you mean? Anya, you're not —"

"No!" she cried, "I can't go through this shit again. I did it once in Whelling and that was enough. It's too hard."

Leon grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly. "We have an assignment. We have to complete it no matter what."

Anya shook her head. "No. No, I can't."

"But Ashley will die without our help!"

Anya brushed him off. "Forget Ashley. The first lady is young – they can have another kid."

Leon stared at her, his green-blue eyes piercing into her brown ones. "How do you plan on getting out, then? The bridge is out."

"I'll find another way around," Anya replied, her tone of voice murderous.

Leon took his hands off her as if they had been burned. "Fine. Leave. I'll do this on my own."

Anya scoffed. "Nice knowing ya."

Leon brushed her off and continued back down the pathway. He called over his shoulder, "Say hi to the natives for me."

Anya flipped him off, but he could not see it.

She watched him disappear down the hill.

Anya swallowed and looked out into the ominous forest.


	3. El Pueblo

Leon made it to the "Pueblo" and knew that it was a good time to reload his gun. Four subjects were roaming around in the courtyard, three male and one female. They all carried pitchforks and axes. There wasn't too much to this _pueblo_: four small houses, a large church, a tower, and several pathetic-looking huts.

It would appear to be a calming farming scene, sans the big bonfire roasting Miguel right in the middle of the courtyard. Leon shook his head in disbelief. These people were sick.

Ingrid had contacted him again, informing him of a possible exit in the north of the village. Of course, the problem was getting to it without the villagers spotting him, which is going to prove very difficult.

Clenching his gun tightly, Leon slipped around the back, hoping to make it to the exit with all his limbs intact.

He was pissed at Anya. Beyond pissed. He had thought that having her as his partner would ensure that they would both get out alive; he'd watch her back, and she would watch his. Anya had proven her skills at the academy time and time again, so when Leon was told that she was to be his partner, he was happy, even relieved, to have someone that intelligent and skilled with him. However, she had proven that she obviously was not up for this assignment, and that she didn't care enough about him to see him through it.

As much as he wanted to, he really couldn't blame her. The disaster in Whelling was about as bad as Raccoon City incident, if not worse. She had barely made it out alive, dealing with the same monsters and horrors as he had in Raccoon.

And she saw her family die.

Leon couldn't compare anything to that.

Wait…. Ada.

Leon quickly put that at the back of his mind when he attempted to sneak from one building to another. There were five subjects out in the courtyard now. He hadn't seen the one with the wheel barrel.

But he saw Leon.

He pointed and screamed, "_Un forestero_!"

Heart racing, Leon ran and kicked open the door of the nearest house. Lucky for him, there was no one in there. Backing himself into a corner, Leon settled his gun on the door and waited.

The door burst open, and in came the villagers. Leon used seven rounds, all of which were headshots, but the natives kept getting up and approaching.

Shit.

Leon reloaded, using his training to try to keep calm and stop his fingers from shaking too hard. The asshole with the wheel barrel earlier ran towards him. Leon snap kicked him, causing him to plow into his neighbors behind him. That would give Leon some time, not much, but some.

The window next to him shattered. More were coming in.

He was outnumbered.

His mind frantically went back to his training, trying to remember some tactic that would help him escape over ten murderous villagers with farm tools who were obsessed with killing him.

Leon was unable to come up with anything that would help. There wasn't any kind of scheme for this because this kind of shit wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to let himself get so vulnerable. Trapped in a corner? Ha. His instructor back at the Academy would piss himself from laughing so hard.

Leon shot another villager. She didn't die.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Leon shoved some villagers aside and jumped over the window. Once outside, he sprinted around the house and went around to the front.

More were coming from the north. Fifteen, sixteen….twenty of them.

Run for the exit.

It was barred shut, the heavy wooden plank secured tightly in its place.

He was done for.

The nearest villager raised their sickle, but suddenly jerked forward, as if he were hit from behind. He fell to the ground, a knife sticking out of his head. Most of the natives turned their attention from Leon to find the knife now deeply embedded in their comrade's head. Leon turned and ran for the nearest house, kicking open the door and reloading. Wasting no time, he pushed a cupboard in front of the door, but he knew that wouldn't hold forever.

_Shit, I would take the zombies over these guys any day, _Leon thought miserably, keeping his gun set for the door. He'd try to pick them off one by one again.

While Leon waited impatiently for the villagers, he heard several high whistle-sounding shots. He strained his ears. It sounded like a bullet searing through the air. Could the bastards fire guns, too?

Preparing for the worst, Leon looked out the broken window.

The villagers weren't coming for Leon's fort. In fact, they seemed to have lost total interest in him. All their attention was fixated on the tall tower. Leon's perfect vision was able to make out the muzzle of a gun poking out of the window frame.

A sniper.

Leon couldn't hide his grin when he realized who it was.

Anya was taking out villagers left and right, the bullets finding their marks perfectly. Even from the fifty-foot tower, Anya could still make headshots like it was nobody's business.

The girl had skills.

Leon's smile disappeared, however, when he noticed the locals setting something on fire. They threw it high into the air, and whatever it was exploded horrendously against the side of the tower. Leon could see Anya shield herself from the blast.

Leon could barely believe it – they were throwing Molotov Cocktails. The smart bastards.

Leon raised his gun and began firing on the villagers. The first five bullets hit their mark, one woman's head exploding clear off her shoulders in a shower of dark blood and guts.

This gave Anya the distraction she needed. She reloaded at lightning speed and aimed down at one man who had lit up a Molotov Cocktail not a second earlier. Anya stared through the scope and pulled the trigger. The makeshift bomb exploded, taking down the man and several of his buddies.

Smiling like a little kid in a candy store, Anya aimed again and continued to fire. She had to keep on the offense; otherwise they were going to kill her partner, who had stupidly let himself get cornered before.

She had tried to leave earlier, it was true (her stomach still knotted in guilt for subjecting Leon as bait), but when she had discovered that her and her partner were being watched (the villagers hiding in the forest about twenty feet away) she knew that she was going to have to use Leon as bait. If the people thought that Leon was by himself, then they would turn all their attentions on him, allowing her to sneak in without having to deal with any hostile villagers. She wondered how Leon was going to react when he discovered her true intentions. Of course, she wouldn't have carried out her plan if she didn't think Leon was capable of taking care of himself. The villagers may be hostile, but Leon was the one with the training and the gun. He'd be okay for now.

After allowing the villagers in the forest to run ahead, perhaps to warn the others that Leon was officially by himself, she hadn't taken the main path that Leon was dumb enough to take. Anya had found a small outcropping to climb on, and was able to climb up on the cliffs overlooking the different paths. Not too many villagers traveled the cliffs too often, but Anya almost triggered traps more times than she would like to count. She shuddered just thinking about getting her leg stuck in a bear trap, or walking between those trip wires.

Anya caught sight of Leon on the pathway a few times, but she had gotten so far ahead of him, that she thought it best to just enter the _pueblo_ and see what she could find. She almost burst into tears when she saw several crazy villagers doing their chores. Luckily, she snuck around the shacks on the northeast corner (the most deserted area) and she only encountered one surprised woman coming out of the smaller huts, a garden shear in her hand.

The woman's eyes grew wide for a moment when she saw Anya, but Anya didn't give her a chance to scream out a warning. The young agent grabbed the woman's head and twisted it until a sharp crack sounded. Anya was going to drag the body back into the hut, but the body dissolved into the ground before she even grasped the dead woman's feet. Anya stared in astonishment as the body, simply melted away into the dirt floor. The only things remaining were the woman's clothes and boots. She'd have to discuss this with Leon later.

Anya had stayed in the hut, watching the activities and trying to think of a decent plan that might actually work. She wondered what Geoff would say about this predicament.

Several times a villager passed by her hiding spot, causing Anya to dodge from the window and hide down into the corner. Lucky enough, the natives never came into the house, just continued grunting and speaking in hostile Spanish.

She wondered why these damn houses didn't have any doors. It didn't make any sense. Of course, none of this shit made any sense, so why would door-less houses?

Anya hid in the hut for about fifteen minutes, waiting for Leon to arrive. She wanted to speak with Ingrid so that maybe the advisor could tell her Leon's exact whereabouts, but Anya couldn't risk the noise. He had to come to the village anyways; there was no way to bypass it.

When she heard someone scream in Spanish, she knew that Leon was in the area. She peeked out the window and saw the villagers drop what they were doing and run toward the house just thirty feet away from her.

With the coast clear, Anya bolted from her spot, ran between the tower and two-story house and came face-to-face with a native. With reflexes too fast for her liking, the man threw an axe at her head. Anya quickly ducked, took out her own survival knife, and chucked it expertly into his face. The blade sunk easily between his eyes. He fell backwards onto the ground.

Anya ran forward to retrieve her knife. It pulled out easily and Anya wiped the blood off with the man's shirt.

_Ugh, these bastards smell like shit_.

She heard several gunshots from within the one-story house. Leon was putting up one hell of a fight.

But suddenly, she saw him running out into the courtyard, villagers following him quickly.

One man was approaching too fast. Anya hurled her knife once more across the courtyard, the knife ending up in the back of the native's head.

Before the other villagers could turn in her direction, Anya dashed to the tower ladder and climbed up. Once at the very top, she swiftly set up her sniper rifle and took the bullets out of her belt to set them on the floor for easy access.

This was her thing, aside from decoding and computers. She was the best aim in the whole academy and now she needed to perform to her very best, otherwise she was going to lose her partner.

Once she blew up the guy with the cocktail, she heard a horrible sound. At first, she thought she had imagined it, but the sound continued.

The sound of a chainsaw.

_No, in the name of God, please no, _Anya thought, horrified.

Anya looked out the window. Yep. A man with a chainsaw came jogging out of the southwest exit. Anya peered through her sniper scope. The psycho looked like he came right out of _Texas Chainsaw Massacre_, complete with the leather mask.

Her heart pounding, she made her mark and pulled the trigger. The gun barely kicked back.

However, the bullet didn't make it. It simply bounced off the chainsaw blade.

"Shit," Anya muttered, her eye on the scope, "Shit."

The other villagers didn't clear off, even though they too were at risk of being cut by their chainsaw-wielding fellowman. Anya pulled the trigger one, two, three times, all the bullets going into the chainsaw man's neck. He was knocked back, but she couldn't see any blood.

The hands. Shoot off the hands!

Anya aimed carefully and fired.

She heard a muffled scream and then saw blood spill from the man's wrist. She aimed and fired again. The chainsaw fell to the ground, forgotten while the man collapsed, his hands absent from his wrists.

Leon continued to fire from his place in the hut, but Anya knew his ammo was going to run out fairly soon. There were still natives out there, but the numbers were considerably less.

Anya heard a grunt down on the ladder. Abandoning her rifle, Anya glanced down the ladder. Three villagers were coming up.

Anya grabbed her Magnum and shot into the first villager's head. He screamed and fell, taking down two more men.

A bell tolled.

The villagers' demeanor changed immediately. They all lowered their weapons and turned in unison toward the small church. The bell still tolling, they walked toward it, in a complete daze.

Leon watched the locals leave, while gripping his gun so tight that his knuckles were actually turning white. He silently crawled through a window and then dashed out into the courtyard, watching as the villagers filed into the church doors one by one. The door closed behind them. Leon scoffed and said to no one in particular, "Where's everyone going? Bingo?"

From atop the watchtower, Anya let out a long, relieved breath. She dismounted her rifle and slung it around her back. After gathering her supplies, she started down the long ladder. Leon was waiting for her when she reached the final step. He said casually, "Well, hello. Wonderful to see you again."

Anya turned to face him. He did look a little worse for wear, with sweaty ash on his face and his hair a mess. He was alive, though, and that's all that mattered. She said, "You were right – there wasn't any other way out."

Leon didn't say anything.

Anya felt that damn guilt build up in her stomach. She was still ashamed for doing that to him, but what choice did she have? Taking in a shaky breath, she said, "I'm sorry, Leon, but I had to pretend that I was abandoning the mission. There were some watchful eyes in the trees."

"You used me as bait?" Leon asked, eyebrows raised.

"I apologize for not telling you, but I didn't have the chance."

"I understand," Leon sighed. "It was a good idea."

"Wish you had thought of it?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning.

"I'm sorry, Kennedy."

Leon stuck out his hand, which she shook wholeheartedly. "Forgiven. Just don't do it again, all right? But if you do, warn me first."

Anya gave a lopsided grin. "Me, leave? Not on your life."

"Ha. Nice choice of words," Leon said solemnly. The two agents walked slowly out into the courtyard. It appeared that all of the villagers had gone inside the one structure. The village was so quiet that it was unsettling.

"Wait," Leon breathed, "Where are the bodies?"

"Oh, that." Anya explained the story of what happened to the woman villager she killed. When she was done, she looked to find Leon's face was expressionless.

"So, they melted?" Leon asked, and for a second, Anya wondered if he even believed her. "They just turned to ash?"

His partner nodded. "Yep. This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder every freaking second."

Human beings melting and turning into ash on the ground; why wasn't he surprised? "No argument here. Should we try getting in?" Leon asked, gesturing for the church.

Anya scoffed. "Rather not. I don't have the energy." She had to look away from Leon, but when she did, she finally saw what the villager's had been roasting in the bonfire. "Holy shit."

Leon didn't bother to look. He knew what she was looking at. "Miguel, I know."

"They…what the hell," Anya whispered, unable to tear her gaze from it. Miguel had been impaled through the chest and was hanging from the fire post. The fire had already done terrible damage to his body, charring his skin and making him almost unrecognizable. His _Policia_ jacket was completely incinerated, his hat melting away into his skull.

"Well, let's check around," Leon replied, making his way to the two-story house. "Maybe Ashley's around here somewhere."

Anya continued after him, muttering, "If they haven't barbecued her yet."

"You say something?" Leon said over his shoulder.

"Yeah. Nice ass," she replied smoothly.

Leon hesitated on his next step, but he continued walking. Anya could see the back of his neck glow red. Smirking, she followed him into the house.

The floor hadn't been swept up in ages, dust billowing from under their shoes with every step. It was a rather small house, Leon going up the rickety stairs, and Anya walking into the kitchen. She swatted a fly away from her face, but it was pretty useless; there were flies everywhere, buzzing around on the kitchen table. Several pots were placed out, but the food inside looked diseased and inedible. Plus, the stench prickled her nose.

Anya sighed, turning around and going up the stairs. On her fourth step, she looked up and saw Leon take a shotgun from a wall mantle. He inspected it and said softly, "Good. It's loaded."

"Found a new toy, have we?" Anya asked, climbing the last step.

"Yep. It'll come in handy. A hell of a lot powerful than my handgun," Leon replied, "I could blow off heads with this."

"I hope so. The bastards can seem to withstand a good beating, possibly even a shotgun blast to the head," Anya replied.

"Only five rounds," Leon sighed, raising his gaze to Anya's. "I wish I had thought to bring shotgun shells."

"I wish I had thought to bring the U.S. Navy," Anya sneered. She turned around and walked to the bed near the north wall. A sharp smell hit her nostrils before she was even near the bed. She looked down and saw several red stains on the sheets. She shook her head in sadness, and in doing so, caught a shimmer of gold out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a small, open box full of pesetas on top of the cupboard.

"Hm. Money," she muttered, picking up the box and setting it in her side pack. Leon approached, asking, "You're robbing them?"

"They tried to kill me," Anya said with a smile, patting her side pack. "I think we're even."

Leon shrugged. "Let's split up. We'll cover more ground that way."

Anya saluted and went back downstairs. Leon rolled his eyes and continued his search.

Anya went through the house Leon had hid in. After breaking down the door, she entered and did a casual search, finding nothing but nasty porridge in a pot, some bread and water next to it. These people apparently did not eat. This food had obviously been prepared a while ago; the bread was one big hunk of mold, and the water appeared stagnant. Anya could not understand what they were living off of.

A door adjacent to the main room had a rusty padlock on it. After several strong kicks, the door busted open and Anya went inside, her gun ready. Nothing but a blood-stained bed, window, a cabinet, and an armoire.

_What had been in this room?_

Anya had a lot of questions, but no answers.

She did find another box of pesetas and added that to her collection. She opened up the armoire door in hopes of finding something else useful.

Her eyes scanned the top shelf of the armoire, but when she looked down, she frantically backed away, horrified.

The body of a small boy sat crouched in the armoire's corner. The decaying process had been in effect for some time now, his skin white as a sheet, his face sunken in, and lips peeling back onto his teeth. He had been crouching into a fetal position, and Anya imagined that he had been crying before he died. He had been one of the villager's kids, his clothes brown and plain just like the others.

Anya felt the bile raise at the back of her throat and she puked heavily on the floor.

Whelling had been bad, but this was worse.

Anya left the house quickly. Once outside, she tried to hold back the tears. It was so wrong to kill another human being, but to kill a young child was so horrible and unforgivable.

She wiped her leaking nose on her sleeve and blinked back tears. She looked fairly decent when Leon exited a shack on the northeast side of the village. When he saw her, he gestured for her to come for him. Anya jogged over there and for a second thought that Leon was going to comment on her red eyes, but instead he said, "Look at this." He handed her several papers.

Anya took them and gasped when she realized she was staring at her own picture. It had been taken in D.C., and from the looks of it, it had been during the annual charity drive for the Children's Miracle Network. She had been keeping an eye out on the streets for any suspicious characters because President Graham was making an appearance. Anya could not believe that someone had snapped her picture without her even noticing. Leon had a couple of photos, too. She didn't know where his had been taken at, but it was recent. Anya looked up at him, startled. "This is… unexpected."

"I know."

Anya looked closer at his picture. She saw an important landmark in the background. "They took this picture of you when you were in London."

"I was in London five days ago."

"They act fast, these people," Anya said, angrily.

"There's a memo, but it's in Spanish."

Anya flipped through the photos and grabbed the memo. She read it aloud for Leon: _"'Two American agents are investigating the village. Do not let the American agents get in contact with the prisoner. For those of you who do not know, the prisoner is being held in a house beyond the farm. We are going to move the prisoner to another location when we are ready.'"_

"Ready for what?" Leon interrupted.

"It doesn't say. _'I do not know how the American government found out about our village. I feel that this intrusion at this time is not just a coincidence. I sense a third party other than the United States government involved here. My fellow men - stay alert! Chief Bitores Mendez.'"_

"I thought you said you didn't know Spanish."

"I can read better than I can speak it," Anya replied absently, still absorbed with the pictures. "The son of a bitch. How in the hell did he take my picture?"

Leon shook his head. "They knew about us, Anya. They know why we're here."

"I don't think they were talking about Ashley in this memo," Anya said.

"Really? Why do you think that?" Leon asked, intrigued.

"They kept saying 'the prisoner'. They never said 'she' or 'her'. I think they were trying to cover up the prisoner's gender, incase the document got into the wrong hands."

"It proves one thing."

"What?"

"These villagers are smart enough to read and comprehend. Imagine how dangerous they could be if they were given the opportunity to plot to kill us."

Anya chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Well, we can't give them that opportunity, can we?"

Leon nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. Aside from this delightful memo, I didn't find anything else. You?"

"Some pesetas and jewelry. I figure I got about five thousand in pesetas, and the jewelry will probably fetch a good price."

"I'd congratulate you on your find, but I doubt we're going to be coming across a mall anytime soon."

Anya's eyes narrowed.

"Theoretically speaking, of course," Leon added quickly, seeing the danger in Anya's eyes.

"We should leave before _they _come back. Where's the door out of this place?"

Leon nodded his head toward a large metal door. "That one, though I don't know what's behind it."

Anya sighed, "Time to reload."


End file.
